Draco's Aliquantulus Temeritas
by shrimpface
Summary: EDIT: Please note that I am in the process of re-writing and finishing Draco's Aliquantulus Temeritas! Harry and Draco had a fight in Potions class, and Draco fell into a cauldron of Occaeco Adulescentulus potion. Professor Snape decides that the boys' punishment will be to work together to find the antidote of the potion in four months, or there will be consequences.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

**A/N: Don't forget to review!**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Potions**

"Drake, dear, can you go get me a dozen Bluebottle wings please?" Pansy asked from behind a steaming black cauldron.

"Sure. Whatever." he said. Draco walked towards the ingredients cupboard angrily.

_'Who is she to boss me about? She's only Pansy Parkinson. I'm Draco Malfoy! No-one can boss a Malfoy around!'_ He rolled his eyes, _'That is, no-one except their overbearing, zealot fathers, of course.'_

He walked back from the cupboard with a jar of Bluebottle wings and slammed them on the table.

"There." he growled.

"Thank you, Drake." Pansy said with a fake gratitude as she began crushing the Bluebottle wings into a fine blue powder in the pestle.

"I told you Pansy," The blonde spat, sitting down in his seat. "Don't call me Drake. I'm Draco Malfoy. And if you want your hair to stay on your head and not on your knees, you'd better remember it." He sneered.

Pansy pulled an ugly face and continued to mix the potion, following the instructions scrawled untidily on the black board, whilst scowling at Draco for snapping at her.

Draco however - who had lost interest in Pansy by now - was looking around the dimly lit classroom, when his eyes drifted onto a table across the other side of the dungeon.

It was Potions, his favourite lesson - except for two minor details; the irritating Pansy and her persistent clinginess; and Potter.

_'Harry Potter,'_ he sneered to himself _'The Golden boy... '_

Potter. Now if there was one person - aside from his father – whom Draco could hex without fear of being put in Azkaban for doing so, it'd be him.

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had taken an immediate disliking to each other since their first meeting on the train at the beginning of their 1st year at Hogwarts. And since that meeting - since Harry refused Draco's offer of friendship - Draco had developed a whole new emotion devoted to his pure hatred for Potter. Draco continued to ponder this hatred while becoming mesmerized by the colour changing mist fuming from the boiling cauldron on the table across the room.

That is, he pondered until someone slammed into his right hand - in which he held, coincidentally, a very expensive and very rare Gryffon feather quill.

The students in the class came to an immediate silence as the sharp cracking sound vibrated around the cold dungeon.

The quill had just been snapped in two.

"Who did that?" He yelled, staring wildly around the room. "Who crashed into my arm?" The wet stone echoed his words. Then the 'Golden Boy' himself stood up.

"I did, Malfoy. Ron pushed me and- I guess I must have knocked your arm my accident." Potter said, ruffling his messy black hair. He grinned awkwardly. "Sorry."

"Do you realise how expensive that quill was!" Draco asked angrily as he marched slowly towards Harry.

Harry's grin disappeared immediately, replaced with a scowl.

"No, but with all the money your father has earned working for Voldemo-" He stuttered. "-Fudge, M-Minister Fudge, you'd think you could afford another one."

Draco hadn't fallen for Harry's fake stutter; he'd heard the cursed name that Harry had nearly said. He was standing in front of Harry now, his eyes burning a slivery ribbon of rage into the Golden Prat's head. There was now perhaps only a foot between them.

"Whether I can afford another one is beside the point, Potter! That quill was given to me by my Grandmother Black!"

Harry felt Ron bristle beside him and saw his fists clench at the mention of the Black family. Anger sparked like yellow fire across those emerald green eyes at hearing the name of that wretched old hag. Sirius's mother - who had disowned and abandoned him so many years ago. At the memory of Sirius and his death, Harry's heart turned to steel. He lunged at Draco, somehow managing to push him backwards over two tables; and practically throw him into a boiling cauldron at the front of the class. Draco heard gasps from his classmates, and a high-pitched shriek which he assumed came from Pansy.

He felt a strange tingling sensation run through his body; and then it was gone. The feeling lasted no more than 10 seconds, and had faded almost as quickly as it started. He stood up and turned around to strangle Harry, but the entire class was staring at the floor next to Draco's feet, where a slimy-green liquid was slowly spilling from the upturned cauldron.

Harry scrambled to his feet quickly and stared wide eyed at the other boy.

"What?" Draco said. "I know I'm pretty but this is ridiculous." He smirked.

"Malfoy? Where are you?" Harry said, looking around the front of the classroom.

"I'm right here, where you pushed me, you bloody idiot!" Draco rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. His robes were wet.

Harry looked at Draco again. Then he reached out with a grubby hand and waved it about in front of Draco's face.

"Mister Potter..." Whatever Snape was about to say had faded from his lips, because after rounding a desk, he lost his train of thought when he saw the blonde Slytherin and slowed to a halt to stand with the rest of the students who had inched forward to circle around the spilled cauldron and the boys. Obviously, Professor Snape had missed the squabble between the two teenagers.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Draco growled. "Come any closer to me with that hand and I'll break it into pieces."

Harry snatched his hand back and scowled. "Malfoy, do you know what potion you backed into?" he asked.

The silver haired boy leered. "You mean the one you _pushed_ me into? No. I don't know." He stood up straighter and smoothed out his robes again, trying to ring out whatever was all over his now ruined robes. Then he looked at Harry.

He had a strange look about him. His shiny green eyes were wide and his strong brow creased. He was fiddling with his sleeve with his left hand and rubbing his head with his right.

This was where Draco realized that this was the first time he'd ever actually looked at Harry properly since standing on the top of the staircase that lead to the Great Hall in their first year, when he rejected Draco's hand and offer of friendship. Anger welled up inside of him again as he remembered what Harry had just done to him. He mentally slapped himself.

_'Stop looking at Potter! You hate him! Stop looking!'_ His eyes refused to obey his brain. _'He rejected you like you were filth! He's a Mudblood sympathiser and a Weasel-loving freak. He's less to you than a vile of Hippogriff droppings.' _

_'... So why can't I stop staring?'_

"You got splashed by an Occaeco Adulescentulus potion." Harry said.

Draco snapped out of his reverie at the sound of those words and his eyes opened so wide he thought they were going to pop clean out of his skull.

"I - WHAT! I-I...Y-You pushed me into the _INVISIBLE MAN POTION_!"


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

******A/N: Don't forget to review!**  


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**Chapter 2 – Face Paint**

"Now, now, Mister Malfoy, don't get all stressed like that." Madam Pomfrey said.

"How can you tell if I'm stressed? No one can see me!" Draco squealed, rather too loud for Pomfrey's liking - loud echoes of his voice were heard all around the room.

"Calm down, Mister Malfoy! Or I shall have to treat you like the toddler you are acting." She said, exasperated, whilst jabbing at Draco to remain still.

He stopped wriggling, mollified; he was lying on a bed in the Hospital wing.

Much to Draco's disliking, Snape had told Harry to take him there, and, seeing as he was invisible, it was rather difficult for Harry to find and support him. Harry was a little too friendly for Draco's liking; He'd had one arm around Draco's waist and the other grasping his left-

He was snapped out of his memories by the sound of the hospital doors opening and slamming against the walls. Then loud, heavy footsteps were coming towards his bed. He groaned inwardly.

"Draco." Lucius acknowledged him.

"Father." he said

"Where are you?" Lucius asked.

"I'm on the bed, Father."

His face hardened and he looked right at Draco, almost as if he knew exactly where he was.

"Draco, how could you let that Potter boy push you into a cauldron of an Occaeco Adulescentulus potion? Why didn't you c-" He turned and glared at Madam Pomfrey. "Excuse me, could you leave my son and I alone for a few moments?" He waved a hand dismissively.

She scowled. "Yes, of course, Mister Malfoy." She disappeared towards her office, muttering all the way about _'Unreasonable parents'_ moaning after she had spent all day caring for their _'Clumsy, rotten children'._

Lucius Malfoy waited until he was sure she was gone and then continued. "Why didn't you curse the little brat? You could've saved me the embarrassment of having to leave one of my... meetings with our friends." Draco scowled, and was glad he was invisible for a second. "This reminds me, My Lord has decided that you are suitable enough to be involved in an experiment we shall be conducting here at Hogwarts. I shall send you more information in precisely _three _weeks." He emphasized the word 'three' strongly. Then he turned and strode purposefully towards the exit, leaving Draco alone in the Hospital wing, full of dread.

What was this experiment? What role was he to play in it? Why did they need to do it in Hogwarts?

* * *

"Mister Malfoy, you have a visitor."

"Wh-What?" Draco opened his eyes blearily. He propped himself up on his elbows, yawned and looked around. "Who's here?" He asked.

"Erm, I am." A boyish voice said.

Draco's eyes opened wide. "You, Potter? What are you doing here?" He spat, sitting up straight, beginning to pull the sheets of the bed around himself – he was stark naked – before realizing he was still invisible.

Harry shifted his feet and looked at the floor.

His hair was messier than usual, his eyes were dark and gloomy and he refused to look at Draco - well, look in his general direction at least.

"Well, Malfoy, I'm not here by choice. Snape told me to come; I suppose it's about what happened to you." He said.

"Why, Mister Potter, you do seem have some sense of logic within you." Snape growled from across the room. Harry's head snapped towards the Slytherin Head-of-house and Potions Professor, his jaw clenching angrily. Draco snickered. Harry shot a deadly glare at him.

"I'm afraid, Mister Potter, that Mister Malfoy shall be requiring your...assistance for quite some while." Snape sneered.

"I don't understand, Sir." Harry said, slowly shaking his head.

Draco sighed.

"Typical." Snape grinned at Harry's confusion; "I have appointed you, Mister Potter, to help Mister Malfoy in finding the cure for this little... Accident of his."

"What! No, Sir, you must have it wrong. I have to work with Potter?" Draco asked, not in the least bit happy about this new arrangement.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy." Snape said, looking in the direction of Draco. "You and Mister Potter shall spend the next few months searching for the antidote of the Occaeco Adulescentulus potion. If either of you refuse, fifty house points shall be taken from both Slytherin and Gryffindor... Oh, and Mister Malfoy will be permanently invisible."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind the second part happening..." Harry muttered, only loud enough for Draco to hear.

* * *

The next morning, Draco awoke to someone rubbing their hands all over his face.

"WH-_WHAT_ are you doing?" He spluttered, sitting up and looking around for his attacker.

"Now, now, Mister Malfoy, calm down, It's me; Madam Pomfrey. I'm just putting some Muggle face paint on you; so we can see what we are talking to." The old nurse said, whilst rubbing more face paint onto Draco's skin.

Draco sat still. "Oh... What colour is it?" He asked.

"Oh, um... Red, Mister Malf-"

"Take it off! Take it OFF!" Draco yelled, whilst attempting to rid himself of the paint by wiping his face on the bed covers.

"Mister Malfoy!" Pomfrey shouted, agitated. She clicked her tongue upon seeing her white sheets smeared with red.

"_I REFUSE TO WEAR ANYTHING THAT RESEMBLES GRYFFINDOR_!" He screamed. He resumed rubbing at his face; only succeeding in smearing it across his cheeks.

"Mister Malfoy! It's just a colour!" She snatched her hands away from the partially red Slytherin and sighed. "Fine, Mister Malfoy, if you're going to make such a fuss; I will see if I can find some green face paint for you." She walked towards her office with her hands on her hips.

Draco settled back down on the bed, still trying to rub the face paint off of his skin.

"Don't know who she thinks she is..." He grumbled. "Trying to make me look like a- a bloody Gryffindors' _nosebleed..._"

He continued in this fashion for some time.

* * *

Harry was sulking. He had been for the past day and a half. And, quite frankly, it was getting on Hermione's nerves.

He was sitting on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room, his back was against the side of the arm and his knees were bent so his feet wouldn't have to dangle over the edge of the chair.

"Harry, what has that book ever done to you?" Hermione asked – glancing worriedly at the book Harry was decidedly glaring daggers at.

He looked up at Hermione. "What?"

She sighed, exasperated. "I said, 'What has that book ever done to you, Harry?'"

His look of confusion doubled. "What? Nothing... The book hasn't done anything to me."

Hermione put down the book she herself was reading. "Then why does it look like you're trying to burn a hole through it?" She said.

Harry was completely lost. "What? I'm not trying to burn a hole through it. Are you okay, Hermione? Maybe you should get your eyes checked." He said, shaking his head. He looked back down at his book.

"Oh, forget I said anything." She sighed, and began reading her book again.

These sort of conversations had been going on ever since Professor Snape told Harry and Draco that they would have to work together to find the antidote of the Occaeco Adulescentulus potion.

It was driving Hermione and Ron insane.

"Okay, Hermione." Harry said distractedly.


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

******A/N: Don't forget to review!**  


* * *

**Chapter 3 – Do you like House elves?**

It was breakfast time at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron had left before Hermione because she was helping Ginny with some last-minute homework, and had walked to the Great Hall together.

Ron couldn't believe that Snape was forcing Harry to work with Malfoy.

"But I don't see why you have to work with that prat to get his antidote! Surely Snape knows it off by heart!" He snorted.

"He probably recites it to himself before he goes to bed!" Harry laughed.

They walked into the hall and sat in their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. The enchanted ceiling was clear and blue, much the opposite of Harry's mood today. They munched on toast and sausages and bacon, cracking jokes about Snape and his beloved potions. Just as Hermione and Ginny came down, the News owls swooped down low and dropped off their letters. As usual, Hermione paid her owl for the copy of the Daily Prophet and began reading. Ron had been sent a letter from his brother Charlie, who was on holiday in Greece – Ginny was reading it over her brother's shoulder. Harry, however, got a letter which was stamped with the Hogwarts emblem on the front. He glanced across at Draco Malfoy and noticed that he'd got the same letter. The others were busy reading their letters, so Harry opened his quickly.

_'To Mr. Harry James Potter,_

_Due to the recent circumstances regarding yourself and Mister Draco Malfoy, and the punishment Professor Snape has seen fit to give you both, I hereby pardon you both from all lessons, exams and homework for exactly four months to find the antidote._

_You are to be temporarily removed from your Gryffindor tower dormitory and moved to new quarters later this evening. All of your belongings, and I, shall be waiting for you there this evening._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

_P.s. Do you own a House elf?'_

After he read it a second time, his eyes fell on the last sentence.

_'Dumbledore knows I don't have a house elf. Why did he ask that?'_ He thought to himself. Looking up, he noticed that Hermione and Ron were looking at him.

"What?" He asked as he folded up the letter and slid it into his pocket.

"We were just wondering why you're trying to catch flies with your mouth; it's hanging open so wide." Hermione said.

Harry frowned. "I'm not trying to catch flies… Hermione, are you really sure you're okay? Maybe you should go to see Madam Pomfrey." And with that, he got up and went to class.

Hermione sighed and shared an exasperated look with Ron and Ginny, who shrugged and started walking to class too.

* * *

After all of his classes, Harry walked slowly to the great hall for dinner. He sat down next to Hermione and Ron, and gave them the letter.

"That's completely unfair!" Hermione squealed after reading it a third time. "Think of all the important things you'll miss from class - and homework!"

"Hermione, that's the good part! Don't ruin it!" Ron said. "But I can't believe Dumbledore's forcing you to live with that slimy git Malfoy. Give him Hell, won't you, Harry?" He looked up at Harry, who was pushing a carrot around his plate.

"I'll try. But what does that last bit mean? About the House-elf? He knows I don't have one." He put his fork down and looked at his friends.

Hermione frowned.

"Maybe he's lost his marbles." Ron suggested.

Harry sighed.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked. "It's a clue to where your new room is! Remember? Whenever Dumbledore wants you to come to his office, he writes something like 'I like Sherbet Lemons' to tell you his password? Well, that's what this is! Your new room is either behind a portrait of House-elves or the password is House-elves!"

"That's very clever, Hermione," Ron said as Harry nodded. "But if it's a password, which portrait are we meant to say it to? Without knowing, we could be asking around the portraits for days!"

"Oh, yes, I suppose so." She puffed out her cheeks.

Harry sighed, and began tormenting the carrot again. Then, suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head.

"I have to ask Dobby!" He shouted.

Hermione and Ron jumped.

"Yes, that makes perfect sense!" Hermione nodded.

"Well, I like that idea better than wandering around here for hours asking the portraits if they like house elves." Ron grinned.

Harry stood up, forgetting his limp carrot.

"Right, well, I'll go ask him now, shall I?"

"Dumbledore said you had to meet him tonight didn't he?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I think so," He took the letter and read it again. "Yeah, tonight. Well, Ron, Hermione, I guess I might not see you for a week, 'cause I don't know whether I'm allowed out for breakfast and dinner or not, so bye." He sighed and walked out of the hall.

Harry headed for the nearest empty classroom and called Dobby.

"Do—" The little house elf appeared immediately. "—bby?"

"Yes master Harry Potter?" He squeaked, his neck wrapped with several brightly-coloured scarves and wearing a new tea cosy hat.

"Oh, um, do you have a message for me from Dumbledore?" Harry asked, bending down to the elf's level.

"Yes, Dobby does! Professor Dumbledore said that you should tickle the Apple, not the Pear, and whisper 'Cauldron'." Dobby's eyes shined. "Did Dobby do well, Harry Potter?" He squeaked.

"Yeah Dobby, you did." He pondered something. "Dobby, isn't there a portrait of a bowl of fruit outside of the kitchens?"

"Yes, there is Harry Potter! Do you want me to take you to the kitchens, Harry Potter?" He puffed out his chest, which was covered in a brightly coloured jumper.

"Uh, yeah, please." He said, and took hold of Dobby's outstretched hand and followed the elf down to the kitchens.

When they arrived at the portrait, Harry said good bye to Dobby and thanked him, then watched as he disappeared through a doorway that the energetic House Elf had opened when he tickled the pear in the picture.

Harry looked at the oil painting. It was a large brown bowl of fruit, with a pear, three bananas, two oranges, a kiwi, a pineapple, grapes, and two apples; one green, one red, inside it.

The black haired boy pulled out the letter; it said nothing about which coloured apple to tickle.

He reached forward and tickled the red apple and whispered _'Cauldron'_ to it.

A deep, male voice came from the apple, which had turned into an ugly face and said "Oi, who do you think you're rubbing the wrong way! Get off!"

Harry stepped back, and blinked. The red apple was an apple again, not a face. He took a breath and stepped forward to tickle the green apple.

It turned into a pretty face and asked sweetly, "Yes, my dear?"

"C-Cauldron." He whispered.

"Not one for small talk, then." She tutted, and a door appeared behind him.

Harry turned and opened the door.

It lead to a big, circular room, much like the Gryffindor common room. It was warm, and painted with reds and yellows and oranges.

There was a small table to the left of the room, which had two sets of cutlery and plates and two goblets, with two chairs tucked in under it; two soft armchairs set next to the fire, which burned happily in the grate; two staircases leading up to (he assumed) the two rooms which he and Draco would sleep in; There were portraits of people Harry did not know all around the walls, and seven high windows in the topmost half of the room. There was another table, this one with a gold and silver cloth running down it, and a massive bookshelf behind it, filled with so many books it looked like the sides were going to burst off at any moment.

Harry walked in a bit further and noticed Professor Dumbledore standing in the middle of the room. There were two big trunks at the foot of the stairs, Harry's with Hedwig's cage set upon it.

He walked towards Dumbledore and he smiled. His blue eyes were twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Hello, Harry." He welcomed him into the room. "I was just saying to young Mister Malfoy here that you should be arriving shortly when you walked in!" He smiled.

Harry stood in front of Dumbledore and looked around. "Sir, I can't see Malfoy in here."

"Well of course you can't, Potter" Came a voice directly to the left of him. "In case you forgot, you did throw me into an Invisible man potion, remember?"

Harry looked slowly towards where the voice came from. "Malfoy." He nodded.

"Potter." The disembodied voice was getting a little eerie now.

"Boys," Harry looked up at Dumbledore. "As you read in my letter, you have been pardoned from all lessons, exams and homework until the cure from Draco's… Aliquantulus Temeritas is found."

Harry looked puzzled.

"Dragon's Little Problem." The voice of Malfoy said.

Dumbledore nodded. "Well done, Draco, I see- Well" He chuckled "I hear that your father has been teaching you Latin. Quite right." The old wizard paused and pulled a small object from his long silver beard, looked at it briefly, and returned it to its mysterious safe place. "Anyway, you have seven days to find the antidote together, and you both have access to the entire library from here," He motioned toward the bursting bookshelf. "You are to eat, sleep, bathe, and study in this room. Neither of you are permitted to leave until the antidote has been found." He looked towards where Draco's whining voice had started to utter some complaint. "And I wouldn't try to get out, either, Mister Malfoy." His eyes twinkled. "Anyway, I shall be off now, it's getting rather late. Good luck!" He called as he ducked through the doorway.

Harry, feeling decidedly uncomfortable at the thought that he was basically living with a ghost for the next seven days, shifted uneasily.

Draco watched him freely. _'I rather enjoy being invisible sometimes. Oh the mischief I can get away with...' _Draco walked silently up to Harry, who was now sitting on one of the overstuffed armchairs, and peered into his face. _'I can see why all the girls melt for him. Wait – what? What did I just say? Snap out of it! You are a boy, not some screaming fan girl!'_

_'But still...'_

"Malfoy," Harry said, making Draco jump. "First of all, your breath _STINKS_, and second, you still have red on your nose." At this he reached up and rubbed the offending red spot from the tip of Draco's nose.

Draco stepped back and sat down heavily in the other armchair, causing dust motes to fly across the room in great swirls. "That stupid nurse, I wondered why Dumbledore acted like he knew exactly where I was. I should have checked a mirror. Oh, how I gave that miserable house elf a start on the way here!" He chuckled menacingly. "The rotten thing jumped a foot in the air when I asked it where I was going!"

Harry snorted and prodded the fire with a poker. "Sounds like you figured out Dumbledore's clue easily enough, Malfoy."

Draco sneered to himself. "Oh, did the Golden Boy Potter not understand? Did you have to ask that mudblood of yours for help?"

As soon as Draco had said the word he had regretted it, for Harry had stood up and swung the cherry red poker towards Draco's face, and snarled. "Do _not_ call Hermione that. _Ever_."

With that he threw the poker into the grate and took his trunk upstairs.

"Some people just don't understand my devilish sense of humour." Draco sighed, and headed upstairs himself.

* * *

At the top of the staircase, which winded to the left, there was a short hallway with two doors at opposite ends. Shrugging, Draco walked to the door on the right and yanked at the handle, only to find it locked. He moved on to the door on the left and it swung inward, golden light from inside spilling out on to the stone floor of the hallway.

He walked inside and closed the door. The room was large and rectangular, with huge windows at the far end by the massive green and silver bed. The floor was wooden, and Draco's shoes clacked loudly against it. On the left of the room was another door, and opposite that was a small kitchen and dining room. Assuming the door lead to the bathroom, Draco passed it in favour of an armchair perched next to the windows at the far end of the room. As he sat down in the surprisingly comfortable chair, he removed his shoes and looked around the room in detail.

It was larger than his shared dormitories in the Slytherin dungeon, and easily warmer. Next to the bathroom door was a large fire and mantelpiece, over which hung a portrait of a rather miserable looking House Elf with a red apple in its hand.

"Clever, Dumbledore, very clever." Draco smirked at the painting.

There was a deep shag rug stretched out on the floor next to the fire, in which Draco buried his toes in like a cat on a scratching post.

Yawning, he got up and began to empty his trunk into the various wardrobes and dressers next to the bed. Once finished, he kicked the trunk under his bead and headed off to explore the bathroom.

Upon opening the door, Draco gasped. The room was almost the same size as the previous one, but with some subtle changes. All but the connecting wall, for instance, was made of glass, which looked out upon the sweeping Hogwarts grounds from high above. In the centre of the room, there was a sunken bath – which was more like a swimming pool – that was filled with bubbles that smelled of flowers. Barefoot, Draco padded over to the sink on the right hand side of him, and looked into the mirror. He soon realised though, that this was pointless.

_'I can see right through myself.'_ With a flash of anger he punched the mirror, which shattered into bloody red pieces and fell into the sink.

Cursing, Draco rushed over to a fluffy white towel, and wrapped his hand in it. 'Where did I put my damned wand?' He thought, and walked into the other chamber. He found his wand on his bedside table and began a healing spell. Due to his frustration, and the inevitable problem of being invisible, it was poorly executed, and left behind angry red scars across his knuckles and palm – though at the time, he couldn't see them.

The invisible boy sighed and walked back to the bathroom, stripped off and dove into the luxurious hot water. A few seconds later he resurfaced, and had found a convenient bench or stool built into the side of the bath. Perched comfortably, he crossed his arms behind his head and let himself soak. Soon his mind wandered, and he found himself pondering over what Potter was doing. _'Probably the same thing as me, though without an aching hand...'_ He rubbed it with his other hand involuntarily, and grinned.

An hour or so later Draco got out of the bath, dried off on a clean towel, and fell into his bed. That night - though he would never tell anyone - he dreamed of soaking in that bath with a dark haired, green eyed someone.


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

******A/N: **Hello, devoted readers! I'm really, really sorry that it's taken me so long to update this fic. Fortunately, I've got a bit of time off work so I'm aiming to write a new chapter every day. Please, enjoy, and let me know what you think in the reviews.

**Tiny~**

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Week One**

Harry woke in his strange new bed, blinking away even stranger dreams about being stalked by an invisible fiend through the darkened hallways of Hogwarts at night.

Sighing, he sat up and scrubbed his eyes with the back of his arm.

"Well, day one of four months of torture begins now. But first, I need some breakfast." He stood and stretched, collected his glasses and wand from the bedside table, and shuffled to the stairs. As he opened the door, a delicious smell erupted in his nostrils. Following the golden scent of freshly cooked bread, bacon, eggs and countless other pleasing aromas, he reached the bottom step and stared. To the right of him was the table he'd seen yesterday, stacked with every possible breakfast food he could imagine. He clumsily dragged his feet over to the red chair and sank down in it, before starting to heap handfuls of anything within reach onto his plate.

"Geez, you'd think you've never eaten before."

Harry jumped a foot in the air, staring around wildly after dropping a handful of sausages on the carpet.

"Calm down, P-boy. It's me. I've been here this whole time." Malfoy snorted. It was only then that Harry noticed the plate opposite him was full, though not quite as _leaning tower of Pisa-y_ as Harry's.

"Morning, Malfoy." He recovered, bending to grab the fallen sausages, only to discover they'd disappeared.

"Amazing, isn't it? Those House Elves are remarkably quick. I shall have to tell Dumbledore to procure some for my Father." Harry sat back up, shocked, and saw Draco's goblet rise in thin air, tilt slightly, and put itself back down.

"You need to wear some damn face paint, or bandages, or something. I can't have you creeping around me all hours of the day." Harry mumbled around a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"I will not dress up like some character in a book, Potter. You'll have to get used to it."

"But, aren't you... I mean, you must be..." Harry stuttered uncomfortably.

"... Naked?" Draco finished. Harry blushed. "Why, as a matter of fact, I am. And now you mention it, it's rather chilly sitting around stark-bollo-"

"Okay, Malfoy!" Harry interrupted. "Do what you want, but I'm not helping you if you're going to be naked the whole time! It's disgusting!"

"Fine." Draco's chair scraped back, and Harry heard footsteps walking around him. He shivered. "I'll go find something to wear." Harry heard footsteps retreating.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"It's not... Either or, you know? I mean, you can't just wear clothes and no face paint, or face paint, and no clothes. I don't want to see your junk swinging in the breeze while I'm eating my breakfast."

Malfoy sniggered. "You know, until you mentioned it, I hadn't even thought of it. But now..." And the door to the stairs opened and closed loudly.

"Ugh." Harry groaned quietly. "If I have to see that, I'm gonna have to get Hermione to do one of her memory charms on me."

Suddenly not feeling hungry anymore, Harry pushed his plate away.

* * *

Sometime later, Harry looked up from the book he was studying to see a green Draco Malfoy wearing a Muggle suit step into the room. Harry almost died laughing at the indignant look on said green Slytherin's face.

"My, my Malfoy," He choked out. "You jealous of me or something! Hahahaaa!" He leaned back and slapped his knee in glee.

"Shut up, Potter." Draco snapped. "It's the only colour that shrew Pomfrey had, other than that awful red stuff." He scowled, and sat down in the armchair opposite the desk Harry was trying so hard not to fall off of.

Harry tried desperately to stop laughing. "Well - hic - I guess we should - hic - look for this antidote, then!"

Draco sighed. "Alright, fine. But don't think you'll get any credit for this. If the antidote is to be found, I'll be the one to find it." Harry scowled at Draco before bending back over the book. "What is that, anyway?"

"What, this?" Harry lifted it up to show the cover. "_One Thousand Remedies for Common Household Magical Maladies_. I figured it'd be a good place to start." He shrugged and put the book back down, and underlined a passage of text with his quill. "Though, I can't find a whole lot on accidentally falling into an invisible man potion whilst being a completely obnoxious twat."

Draco bristled. "Obnoxious? Twat? Accidentally! YOU pushed me into the cauldron, after YOU slammed into me and after YOU broke my priceless, antique quill!" He slammed his fist on the table, leaving a green smudge behind. "I'm going to ignore that comment, Potter, because you're never going to find the antidote in that book. You really are useless without your precious Weasel and the Mistress of a Thousand Books, aren't you?" He stood and went over to the bursting bookshelves, and selected a small leather bound book with a green cover. "This should be where we start. I have a copy of this at the Manor, though it's a first edition, written by hand by two-hundred-and-forty-six fasting House Elves in Northern Russia." He smirked. "It cost my father a small fortune. Probably enough to feed your Weasel and his entire family for six years, though I suppose stale bread and mouldy cheese isn't all that expensive."

Throughout this little rant, Harry's face had steadily gone from pale to red and from red to the colour of a Harpies' tongue. "_Malfoy_," He stood and leaned over the snarling green Slytherin. "If you say one more word about my friends, or your insane, murdering, Death-Eater father, I will hex you into a million tiny, invisible pieces!" He held his wand to Malfoy's throat. "Do you understand?" Abruptly, before Draco could answer, he turned and stalked away upstairs.

"Day one of aggravating the P-boy," Draco muttered, "Accomplished."

* * *

Harry stalked into his room and threw himself on the stuffed armchair.

"That miserable, insufferable, pig-headed twat!" He murmured to himself. "Oh, how am I going to survive long enough to find this bloody antidote without killing the moron?" Harry sighed and slumped deeper into the chair. _'Well, at least Ron isn't here – Malfoy's bad enough on his own, let alone with Ron and his temper regarding all things Hermione. I wonder what they're up to.'_ He snorted. _'Probably squabbling, or doing that ridiculously obvious flirting thing they do. I wish they would both just admit it.'_ He sighed, and decided to explore his quarters.

Standing up, he walked over to the large windows and peered out solemnly. _'If Sirius were still here...'_ He shook his head. No, he would not think about his godfather. Not with a direct descendant of the woman who killed him hovering around invisible somewhere. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. _'What if he's in here right now...'_ He looked behind him uneasily, scouring the room for anything odd. _'Well, if he is, he's about to become a pervert, because I seriously need a bath.'_

He walked deliberately to the door on his right, satisfying his subconscious that if Malfoy _was_ snooping, he'd get the idea and leave. He opened the door and walked inside. _'Wow. This place is huge! Bigger than the prefect's bathroom!'_ Looking around, he spotted two sinks standing next to each other in front of a large mirror, and another door on the opposite side of his. _'Oh, great, we have to _share_ a bathroom?'_

Feeling slightly uneasy again, he walked to the overlarge bathtub and started turning on various different taps. Instantly the tiled white room was filled with a mixture of scents as the fragrant water began to fill the tub. Happy with his choices, Harry walked over to the mirrors and took off his school jumper, placing it beside one of the sinks. As he did, he noticed a tiny smudge of red-brown on the counter, and peered at it curiously. _'Thought Malfoy said he wouldn't wear the red stuff?'_ Shrugging, he proceeded to strip, first loosening his tie and laying it on top of his discarded jumper, before removing his glasses and unbuttoning his shirt. Now topless, Harry went to check on the tub, and squatted just by the edge. _'Hmmm. Not even a quarter full yet.' _He resolved that in the future he should start filling the tub much earlier, and stood. Glancing around, he noticed that there weren't any lavatories in this room. _'Good, at least I won't run the risk of peeing in front of Malfoy.'_ He looked once more at the slowly filling tub, and decided that he had time to find said missing lavatories.

He went back into his quarters, and noticed another door right next to the one he entered through. Opening it, he discovered another tiled white room, with a rather unimpressive loo sitting against the far wall, and a huge gilded mirror on its left. Satisfied, he closed the door and walked back to the bathroom.

The tub was about half way full now, and Harry was beginning to run out of things to do while he waited. Shrugging, he went back to the two sinks and discarded the rest of his clothes – first he kicked off his shoes, and then proceeded to peel the black woollen socks off his feet. Again he laid them neatly next to his jumper, glasses and tie, before unbuttoning the fly on his trousers. Noticing that uneasy, watched feeling again, he turned and surveyed the room to find nothing out of place. Mentally, he slapped himself. _'Idiot! Malfoy couldn't have washed off that green face paint without coming in here first - and you would've seen him!'_ He sniggered at the memory of the Slytherin's indignant face at the table earlier, and shrugged off the weird feeling. The black haired boy turned back to the sinks and continued to unzip his fly, letting them fall to the floor in a pool around his feet. Stepping out of them, he kicked them to the side and swiftly divested of his boxers. Now completely naked, Harry checked on the tub once more and discovered it very nearly full. He pushed the hair out of his eyes as he waited patiently with his back towards the sinks and the doors either side of them, hand on his hip, and heard a noise.

He turned sharply and saw none other than the green Draco Malfoy himself standing open-mouthed in the doorway adjoining the Slytherin quarters to the bathroom, before losing his footing and falling rather ungracefully into the bath.

Upon surfacing, he heard the door slam and a muffled, "Shit! Sorry, Potter!" from the other side, and footsteps hastily walking away. Gasping for air, and wiping the bubbles from his face, an abstract thought entered his mind as he swam to the other side of the tub and perched on the bench that ran along the inside wall of it – _'Did Malfoy just apologise to me?'_ Harry shook his head. _'I must have water in my ears.'_


End file.
